Identity
by Saiyachick
Summary: Grabbing a towel, I wet it and washed all the concealer off. Funny, seeing as how I wasn’t concealing any imperfections—just my identity. I stared at my reflection, at the stranger in front of me, the girl Edward loved. Too bad I wasn’t her.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight series; that right is reserved to Stephenie Meyer.

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R&R

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**Identity**

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"Good to see that you got my message." He said from behind me, the sound of the shutting door reverberating throughout the halls of my apartment. Irritation laced in his voice as I heard Edward pour himself a drink from my personal alcohol collection. Wincing, I saw that he had already downed two glasses of a very expensive brandy that I acquired just a few days ago. Then again, I did buy it for him.

He looked so far away despite our three foot separation. Cold cut emerald stared at me, a flash of anger gracing his angelically pale face. He stalked towards me and raised his hand to my hair, yanking the pins and ties that confined it in a neat bun. His eyes softened slightly and diverted its gaze from my face, affectionately wrapping a strand of hair around his long finger.

"You dyed your hair again."

"It was starting to show."

Nodding once, Edward turned away from me and poured himself another glass of brandy. I mentally kicked myself, patting down the unruly mess of plain, brown hair, but thankfully the color held redemption. I invested too much time—too much effort—to lose him now. This was his obsession, his _fantasy_, and I was merely here to play. Taking a deep breath, I stepped behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to the middle of his muscled back.

"Pour me a glass?"

"Are you sure that is wise?" Edward sat his glass down, placing the glass top back on the antique bottle, and turned us around so I faced away from him. He nuzzled into my neck, breathing in the scent of the freshly applied perfume he specifically asked I wear, his lips finding my ear. "I don't think you are quite old enough yet."

Sighing at his words, I knew there was no way I was going to get liquored up tonight. I could have asked again in a more pleading, wanting tone, but I didn't want to piss him off so early in the game. "Maybe in the a few years."

He groaned into my ear, his teeth tugging at the fleshed lobe, tongue tracing its outline. "God, baby, I will most definitely be there to witness your first night of drunken debauchery." Edward loosened his grip from my hips, his hands sliding up my clothed stomach, up the curve of my breasts giving them a quick squeeze, and landed to the top of my shirt. One by one the buttons came undone, slightly calloused hands caressing my flat stomach, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. "Fuck, I love it when you talk about our future."

I knew that too, hence why I brought it up in the first place. He was more passionate when I spoke to him in those breathy whispers about the years to come. Only, I didn't get off on it like he did because none of it was true. Slipping off my shirt, I heard another groan come from his lips, assuming he caught sight of the sapphire colored bra I wore. The smirk found its way on my face, and this time I was glad that I was turned away from him. He'd scold me, telling me that I was ruining the moment.

"You like it?"

"Fuck, yes." His hands drifted back to my hips, pressing hard against the curve of my ass, feeling the strain of his cock through his jeans. My skirt began to rise and bunch, the matching colored panties slipping down my legs. I kicked away the scrap of fabric, walking from Edward to the bed, crawling on the soft comforter. I was about the turn around, but I felt him hunch over me, his lips going back to my ears.

"Edward…"

"Nuh-uh," he teased, his voice hoarse with lust. "No turning around. Get on your hands and knees."

Fuck. He must really need to cum. Such a shame because I was planning on doing things with that cock…

The sound of his undone belt and zipper of his jeans was enough to make me moan. I reached behind me, about to unclasp my bra until his hand stopped mine.

"Stop."

I stilled, not moving an inch, knowing very well the vitriol in his tone of voice was borderline warning. Slowly, I bent over on the bed, my hands clutching the comforter as I patiently waited for him.

"Good girl."

He resumed undressing, shirt rustling from coming undone. The ripping of plastic from the condom wrapper followed by his heavy panting were the only sounds until I let out the shuddered breath I held in, feeling him slide into me. I almost wanted to whine that I was on the pill, but I didn't want to further piss him off.

Edward began to move slowly at first, teasing in and out, until I cried out with frustration. Then, he thrust harder, faster, going a little deeper each time. My whimpers mixed with his grunts, our moans almost primal. His skin slapped fervently against mine, and I felt him hit the right spot. I threw back my head at the delicious sensation, my stomach tingling as he picked up the pace.

His hips rocked with mine, and I pushed higher against him, giving him a better angle. A hand snaked down to where we were joined, and I couldn't help but scream as my orgasm ripped throughout my body. As soon as my walls clamped on Edward, he soon followed, growling out his pleasure.

"Fuck...Bella…"

Sighing, I felt him soften inside me and we dropped upon the bed. He rolled over, catching his breath. I shivered from the lack of heat as the cold sweat on my back was exposed to the air. Edward took one look at my face and hissed. "Wipe that shit off your face." Without another glance, I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the lights.

Frowning with discontent, his words registered in my mind. What was so wrong with my makeup? I thought I did a pretty damn good job. Was it my fault my face couldn't get that pale? Grabbing a towel, I wet it and washed all the concealer off. Funny, seeing as how I wasn't concealing any imperfections—just my identity.

I stared at my reflection, at the stranger in front of me, the girl Edward loved. Too bad I wasn't her.

Removing the muddy brown contacts from my eyes, I slowly peeled away the mask I had so carefully built for the man that lay in my bed. My strawberry blonde hair started to appear a few days ago, and I had it touched up this morning, matching the color he so fondly spoke of. Disgusted, I stared at my pasty skin that screamed for a tan. The things you do for the man you are in love with. I unclasped the bra and took off the skirt, clad in only my skin, and walked out of the bathroom hoping for round two.

Edward already had his pants up and zipped, looping the belt around his jeans. He shrugged back into his dress shirt and turned, noticing that I was staring. A churlish sneer formed on his lips as he stared at me. "I thought I told you to keep the bra on."

"I didn't realize we were still playing."

"We aren't."

"Why _did _you want me to keep my bra on?" I asked, laying back against the headboard of my bed.

"Because Bella doesn't fucking have fake tits, and I didn't want to see yours."

Fury seeped through every pore of my body. "Sorry that I can't be as perfect as your fucking childish girlfriend."

"Do me a favor and keep that mouth of yours shut, Tanya."

"What? Can't handle the truth, Edward? You are fantasizing about a little girl!" I taunted, laughing at his angered face.

"She is seventeen. She isn't a _little girl _as you so eloquently put it."

"Mmm yeah. That's why you come to me every week, rubbing your hard on all up on me. You are disgusted even with yourself to the point where you can't even think of having sex with her."

"Like I said, Tanya, she is seventeen, not yet legal or the age of consent. Don't think I don't know what you are doing. You are pulling the same shit you did all throughout high school. Still the same manipulative bitch in heat." He let out a cold chuckle, before stoically continuing with his tirade. "You honestly think I like coming to you? Why do you think I ask you to dress like her every time I see you—fuck—you even wear contacts and dye your hair so you can look just like her!"

"For you!" Livid, I stormed at him, screaming with every fiber of my being. "I fucking do it for you!"

"Funny because I didn't ask you to do shit. Yeah, we hooked up at first, but once you caught wind that I had it bad for Bella, you did everything you could to seduce me. You did all that willingly—the hair, eyes, makeup—you did it all for yourself."

"Fuck you, Cullen. You jacked off to that shit."

"Never said I wasn't enjoying it."

"And you are still fucking me."

"What? Did you honestly think that by changing your appearance that you could keep me? You may be pretty, Tanya, but you have an ugly personality."

I stared at him, repeating the same words I did every week. "What's so special about her? What's so great about Isabella—Fucking—Swan."

"One, her middle name is Marie." He smirked at my irritation. "Two, she's real, intelligent, beautiful, witty, pure—"

"So this is all about popping some little girl's cherry?"

"Stop fucking calling her a little girl. She is only four years younger than me, and no. This isn't about taking her virginity."

"She probably isn't even a virgin," I muttered. "She probably screwed all the guys in that podunk little town of hers."

"Not everyone is a whore like you, Tanya."

"What if she finds out this? What if I, I don't know, accidentally let it slip that you've been fucking me this entire time."

Edward shrugged, unfazed by my words. "I honestly don't think she'd care. After all, Bella and I aren't anything—yet."

"Whatever, Cullen." Picking up my robe, I wrapped it around my body and sat at the vanity to brush my hair. "So I'll see you next Friday?"

"Actually, no, you won't."

Raising an eyebrow, I stared at him from the vanity mirror. "What?"

"Did I stutter?" He scoffed nonchalantly. Edward grabbed his watch and slipped it upon his wrist, latching the bindings. "I said you won't see me next Friday."

"Are you going out of town?"

"Get off my dick. Not that it is any of your business, but no, I am not going out of town. I have a date."

The brush slipped from my hands, clattering upon the table, my stomach churning at the way he said it. "A…date?"

"With Bella."

"I thought you said she is only seventeen—age of consent…"

"Next Friday is her birthday," Edward said, grinning as the word's fell from his mouth. He seemed excited, his eyes glowing brighter since he mentioned the word _date_.

Grimacing, I looked at him. "So, what now? You're going to fuck her and then me?"

Edward chuckled and walked out of the bedroom. I walked after him, stopping when he opened the door to my apartment. "No, Tanya. I just fucked you, but with Bella, I'm going to make love to her. This?" He waved a hand between him. "This is done"

He walked out of my apartment, slamming the door behind him, the glass on the windows shuddering in its wake.

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**Authoress Note: Hello, all! Glad you enjoyed this little number by me. This idea has been stuck inside me for a while. I might take up a companion piece or add to this from time to time, but essentially it is over. Yes, Edward is a complete jackass, but Tanya isn't a saint either. I left certain things untouched for a reason. Ambiguity is an author's best friend.**


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